


Oh Fuck

by Patchwork drabbles (PurplePatchwork)



Series: RusAme Drabbles [30]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blood, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4732871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePatchwork/pseuds/Patchwork%20drabbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred gets a call from his boyfriend that will turn his world upside-down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Fuck

It is one thing getting a call from your boyfriend in the middle of the night, rousing you from a deep and peaceful slumber. It is a whole other thing hearing his panicked breathing as he calls your name, voice raspy and strangely far-off.

"Ivan?" Alfred asked, instantly more awake than ever. He pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, distress and confusion rising when he heard Ivan softly weeping- Ivan, the man who hadn't even cried when he fell down the stairs and broke his leg, or the other time when he a family member had died and he was so struck by it he didn't talk for a week. And that Ivan, his Ivan, was calling Alfred in the middle of the night with a broken voice muffled by tears and something else, something Alfred couldn't put his finger on.

"What's wrong," the American insisted, putting on his night-robe as he clenched his phone between ear and tensed shoulder.

"Come- come… I need you…" Ivan whispered, barely audible over Alfred's rapid breathing. The American was already sprinting down the stairs, hand grabbing at keys and shoes, ignoring the fact he was still in his pyjamas.

"Babe babe please, calm down," he fired, cursing when he stubbed his toe against the door frame but running outside without locking up nonetheless. Ivan only lived two streets away, yet it didn't make his sprint any less hurried. He kept the phone to the side of his head, fingers shaking as they clenched the only thing keeping him connected to his beloved. "What happened? Ivan, what's wrong?"

"Fell… There is red, Alfedka…"

Alfred almost tripped and fell, regaining his footing only at the last possible moment. Only a few more houses. Three, two- there, down the little pathway leading up to a clean glass door, patches of flowers and herbs planted next to it. He fumbled for Ivan's house key, needing four times to get it inside the keyhole.

He didn't allow himself to think of what those words meant, couldn't get his head over it. However, once he slipped and spurted inside Ivan's kitchen, the place from where he could hear a quiet moaning and disturbed giggling, the truth came crashing down.

Blood, blood everywhere. A cabinet door hanging off its hinges, cutlery scattered across the smirched linoleum, a body curled up in the middle. Beautiful eyes filled with tears, limbs twitching as blood gushed from scratches and a sizable head wound.

"Oh fuck," was all Alfred could say, figure frozen in stunned mortification. "Oh fuck. Oh  _fuck_. Ivan, what happened?"

He couldn't believe what his own eyes registered, because it simply couldn't be true. Ivan couldn't be lying there, mouth twisted in a painful smile as he looked up at Alfred. And he certainly couldn't look so afraid, like a frightened little bird, for his Ivan was fearless.

"I fell," Ivan whispered, and Alfred flinched when a rough couching fit forced new blood out of his wounds. He finally came to action- he needed to help Ivan, stop him from bleeding. Blood should stay inside the body, it wasn't meant to be streaming out with such large quantities. This, this couldn't be healthy.

He felt a bit delirious as he crouched down besides his lover, capturing his hand as in a daze. Ivan was still crying, not putting in any effort to keep the tears from staining his pale cheeks.

"Alfred," he said, softly pulling at the other's hand in a mute request.

Alfred leant forward, bringing his head to Ivan's lips. He wasn't crying, nor was he getting ready to call an ambulance. Why wasn't he calling an ambulance? Ivan should be brought to a hospital, Ivan should…

Yet instead of doing the logical thing, Alfred sat there, listening to the other's words as if dying was only another part of being in a relationship, as if this was all but a dream and he'd wake up later and nothing would've happened.

"I wanted to cook something for you. For your birthday," Ivan explained, voice leaving him as fast as the life slipped away from his shaking hands.

"I slipped and fell. I think I broke something, everything is red and black."

Why could he discuss this in such a formal manner? As if he was only telling the details of an elaborate plan, helping Alfred study just like he did back in college, when Alfred was a freshman and Ivan his handsome senior.

"I am sorry, Fedka."

Alfred still hadn't said anything. His eyes were dry while he stroked Ivan's face, making sure the blood didn't reach his eyes and his sweaty hair was neatly tucked behind his ears.

"Why did you call me? Why didn't you call the hospital?" he finally choked out, not recognizing his own voice as it sounded strangled and tiny.

Ivan placed a small kiss on his cheek, before his eyes slipped shut.

"I couldn't stand not seeing you one final time," he sighed.

And Alfred stayed by his side, the two of them not having moved when dawn broke through the thick curtains and the neighbours started their daily rituals.


End file.
